Reading about dance is a surprising unique experience, when you would expect to see a pique or pirouette turn on television or the theatre ,showing you the dancers steps, in reading about dance these actions are usually accompanied with a description of how it felt to watch the dance or how the dancers felt performing them. There is a sense of compensation to the fact that you can’t visually see the act itself, even though you do, however the gift of storytelling means you also get to experience the feeling behind the dance as well as see it in your minds eye. Although having had a visual experience of these steps is important in knowing what the writer is referring to, it is a beautiful thing when you read about dance. Knowing the research that must go into making a good story on dance its a gift to see behind the curtain to what dancers feel when they dance, and to experience another viewers interpretation of the art.

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me. Continue reading “Phenomenal Woman” by Maya Angelou

I see now the flaws that live in myself that stain the vision I knew to be me.

I see now the mantlepiece I put myself on, the burden that strapped me to that shelf.

I see now the part of me I ignored that part that was pushed down because it was flawed, it did not belong.

I see now the choices I had made unconsciously to be what I had been reared to be.

I see now that I was never complete, not because of goals unattained or plans yet to be accomplish but because of the focus on becoming someone that was not me, of fitting into an ideal that was predetermined for me and being blinded by that picture I did not know was not true.

I see now that I was incomplete because I had not accepted all that I am.

I see now that I was incomplete because I had not loved all that I am.

I see now that I am my flaws, I am my good, I am my bad. I do not have to choose within myself, I do not have to choose which part to suppress. I am beautiful because I am flawed. I am light, I am dark. I am strong, I am weak. I am not perfect and because of that I am.

I have lost that veil of innocence emeded deep in me, that scence of unattainable ideal I had always strived to achieve because it was always so. I have lost a part of me, crumbled with the mantlepiece I had put up. The rose coloured glasses are left shattered in the debris.

I see you now, in the mirror, maybe for the first time, but I see you and you are not who I thought you were when I looked at you a week ago. You stared back at me but I looked away. I see you, I accept you, I will love all of you, but as a start, I love most of you.

—Sandra Francesca.

Happy Reading

Note: This was written by me, as part of a free writing exercise challenge set by The Daily Post. It is a series themed on loss, and is part One of the Loss series. I hope you stay tuned for more. Thank you.

I was tasked to write about something random by The Daily Post, themed on ‘unlocking your mind’, in twenty minutes, so forgive my ‘off my usual subject’ post, I began to type…

I want to write about my favourite walk way in London, a little square called Soho. I love London’s Soho, the people there are the friendliest, kindest souls you’d ever meet. Souls that is what your reminded of in soho that we have souls, there is a variety of people, men, women and every wonderful variations in-between all cooked up in the bustling heartbeat that is Soho. I can get lost walking around soho, not lost as in “geez, they really should put these streets on the map”, lost as in “wow, thats wonderful, oh look something more wonderful” then next thing I know, four hours has mysteriously vanished from the clock on my iPhone. I have favourtiore spots I tend to always stop by when I’m in soho. One of them is La Polenteria.

I am sure I’m not the only one that collects book they aspire to read. I tend to plan out the books down to the edition, whether I would mind reading it as a hard or soft copy, sometimes where to read them, things like that. On my Pinterest I call the ‘Books in my Library’. Now, I don’t actually own a shelf with books lined up in some wonderfully symmetrical order, but I do have a little collection going, I love to scour little second hand books stores or garage sales in search for not just the my next ‘blow me away’ book, but also to tick off books on my ‘ultimate read’ list.

The other day I was walking down Soho in London, and bumped, literally, into a little corner book store called Bookmark, clever. There I picked up a book on my list, Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë. They have an electric collection some first editions too, it was a delight. After losing myself in the mothy alcove I ended up with a few more books to add to the list. The list, you see is always growing I’m always finding new book I just have to read and somehow finding them on the list. But, I never actually read these book, I am not entirely sure why, but I collect them in preparation of reading them. I know it sounds just silly, I really should start reading them, I know this. Am I the only one that does this, buy a book you really want to read and save it?

Anyway, here is the ever growing list of booksI want to read before I die, there are 57 so far…

I got a comment from the lovely Angela Leese from one life, recorded letting me know she had nominated me for the Liebster Award. My first reaction was, what?! Then I thought she had made some mistake, I only just stared the blog, then I thought please let this not be a mistake, and low and behold, it wasn’t. Yippee!

So if you’re not sure what the Leister award is, and neither was I, I found its basically a recognition award for bloggers by bloggers and it has its own set of rules, of course. One the first things I did after receiving this award invitation was to seek more information from the oh so knowing google. And I found quite a bit.

Like most people know, Paris is one of the most romantic places in the world. Its beauty conjures up a whimsical fancy that tinkers just within your grasp. You go to it and that dream suddenly is reality, and this reality is so much more than the fantasy. Yes, Paris is one of the most romantic places in the world. Its easy to fall in love in Paris, more often than not in my experience, it easy to fall in love with Paris, every time you visit.